


Traynor plays for fun / Shepard plays for keeps

by ApocalypseThen



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/F, Geek Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:47:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8707618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseThen/pseuds/ApocalypseThen
Summary: What happens when your girlfriend is dangerously good at strategy games?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme:  
> http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/9521.html?thread=45586225#t45586225

“Captain Shepard,” said Admiral Kiril. “We understand that you have waived your right to representation.”

“Yes, sir.” Shepard stood erect, making the most of her average height, projecting far more intensity than you would expect from such a slight frame.

“More fool you, Captain,” said Kiril. “If you think this board of inquiry is going to give you an easy ride because of who you are, think again.”

“Sir,” Shepard said. Her eyes flickered sideways for a moment. Admiral Kiril was a stuffed shirt. Stuck in an out-of-the-way posting, he hadn't been touched by the war. To his left, Admiral Herrold, she didn't know. To his right, Admiral Westmoreland. Shepard let her gaze linger there for just a moment. The slightest inclination of her head to acknowledge their history was all that was appropriate under the circumstances.

“I do hope you're ready to explain yourself, Captain,” said Kiril dryly. “So why don't you tell me in your own words just what in the hell you were thinking, blowing up our training facility?”

**

“Surprise!” said Shepard, pulling the blindfold off Samantha's eyes.

Samantha blinked owlishly in the dim glow. “Tac-space Zero!” she gasped. “The root simulator! Shepard! This is the best anniversary gift ever!” Samantha frowned. “We shouldn't be here, should we? Isn't this restricted?”

“I pulled a few strings,” Shepard admitted. “We have a few hours.”

Samantha wandered around the main console, fingering the controls lightly. “Full-immersion real-time physics, high-grade AI opponent coupled to the most complete database of military history anywhere in Alliance space...it's what they train admirals on...”

Shepard grinned as she advanced on Samantha. “Now take off your pants,” she purred. “You know you always play better when you're relaxed.”

“I get to play?” Samantha's face blazed brighter than the holo-sun that hung in the centre of the sim-space.

**

Admiral Kiril turned a fetching shade. “Captain!” he spluttered. “Let's assume that you don't need to provoke me. Let's assume that I'm already fully provoked.”

“Apologies,” Shepard replied. “Sir.” She didn't dare look directly but she could feel Admiral Westmoreland's smirk. Admiral Herrold was still stony faced, unperturbed. A combat veteran, then, if he had that much self-control.

“So you admit that you used illicit contacts to access one of our most secure, critical repositories of intelligence, which, if it fell into the wrong hands, would give our enemies a decisive tactical advantage, and all to what?” spat Kiril. “Get laid?”

“Let me tell you about Commander Traynor, sir,” said Shepard.

**

Shepard watched as Samantha tricked the Batarian privateer fleet into firing on their own ground team. Her nose wrinkled in the cutest way as she put paid to the simulated slavers ambitions, sending them off with their tail between their legs.

She watched as Samantha played cat and mouse with a fighter wing. She made her light cruiser dance nimbly, using short FTL hops to trigger the minefield to take out her pursuers. Shepard watched her tight little butt shake as each of her moves paid off. Her victory shuffle was unconscious but no less irresistible for that fact.

Shepard had to hold back from taking Samantha from behind as she found the weak spot on the Destiny Ascension and hammered it mercilessly. The asari might be allies today... Shepard's pulse started to race. Samantha looked over her shoulder at Shepard and narrowed her eyes with satisfaction. The glow of the dreadnought's explosion filtered through her hair.

Finally, there was Shanxi.

**

“Are you telling us that Commander Traynor, who is admittedly one of our finest scientists, but who is nonetheless a researcher, not a tactician, found a solution to Shanxi?” spluttered Kiril. “Ridiculous.”

Admiral Herrold spoke up. He spoke softly, but Shepard didn't discount him because of his professorial air. “That sim is there as a reminder, Captain,” he said. “It's not supposed to be beaten.” He looked sideways at Westmoreland, who nodded slightly. Shepard thought it was interesting that he more or less ignored Kiril. “It is programmed to cheat, if necessary. If indeed Commander Traynor was able to find a legitimate solution... we would be very interested.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Shepard. “I know.”

**

Shepard watched with increasing admiration, and increasing horror as the turian fleets succumbed. Samantha was so... innocent, relatively speaking. How could she be so brutal? How could she have out-maneuvered the turians with such ease? Shepard had watched her weave a fiction for the simulated turian generals using the dance of her ships, well placed info-leaks, a false-flag op and one particularly daring engagement that involved striking at the turian flagship via an FTL jump through the sun. Shepard could only imagine the agony of the proud turians and imagine it redoubled when they found out they had been beaten by a player of games, not a grizzled veteran. It might be a simulation but these were life and death matters. If some admiral took it into his head that he could outwit the turians with these tactics...

Shepard had to stop the onslaught. “That'll do, Sam,” she whispered into her ear.

“I did it.” Samantha wore the intense pride she carried with every victory at the board. She seemed a little disappointed that she couldn't shake hands with the Tac-space AI.

“Good game,” whispered Shepard as she gathered Samantha up in her arms.

“Good game,” replied Samantha, her voice perky, her body responsive. “Shepard, what's wrong? Why are you shaking like that?” 

**

“So I blew the facility. Sir,” said Shepard.

Admiral Kiril looked as if he was about to explode, but Admiral Herrold pre-empted him. “Let me see if I understand, Captain,” said Herrold. “You fear that if knowledge of these superior tactics is dispersed, some hothead will eventually try his luck with them.”

“Sir.”

“You destroyed the simulator to remove the records of the win. And you said nothing of this during your debriefing because you wanted to limit collateral damage.” he continued. “Even knowing that it was possible to best the turians would be too dangerous. So logically your next move would be...”

Shepard caught the pistol that Admiral Westmoreland tossed at her by the grip and levelled it at Herrold's forehead. Her aim was rock steady. “Thanks, Beth.”

“Commander,” Westmoreland acknowledged.

Herrold was perfectly still.

“This is outrageous!” Kiril exclaimed, rising from his seat. “Captain, stand down!”

Shepard shot Kiril in the head, the smoothest and quickest of movements split by the damped report of the silenced round.

Herrold was staring down the barrel, palpably nervous. “Was this course of action also suggested by Commander Traynor?”

“No,” replied Shepard. “This is me protecting her from you. And all of us from her. He was a fool. I'm betting you're not. Understood?”

Herrold nodded. “I... we have backups of the data, Captain.”

“Not any more,” Shepard replied.

“I... won't make the mistake of underestimating you, Captain,” said Herrold.

“There aren't many left who have.”

**

Samantha arched her back and thrust her crotch harder against Shepard's questing tongue. “Call me Admiral,” she gasped. “Admiral of the Fleet.”

Shepard's reply was that thing she did, tongue and fingers and muscles all coordinated, that reliably made Samantha lose her train of thought.


End file.
